


honey

by onbeinganangel



Series: kinkuary 2021 [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Caning, Divination Professor Lavender Brown, F/F, HP Kinkuary 2021, Matron at Hogwarts Parvati Patil, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Vibrators, yes i have had enough of feelings we're going full spice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29556657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onbeinganangel/pseuds/onbeinganangel
Summary: “Miss Patil,” she says and walks slowly around the desk until she’s on the same side as Parvati. “We both know you’ve been turning in work that is, quite frankly, very poor for your standards. You insist on being late to my classes — and other professors’ too, I’ve heard — and chatter away like you’re sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room with your friends. Which you aren’t. When you’re in my classroom, I’d like you to treat it with the respect it deserves.”
Relationships: Lavender Brown/Parvati Patil
Series: kinkuary 2021 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137662
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





	honey

**Author's Note:**

> Some days are normal, other days you have to stop yourself from writing really in-depth tarot based dirty talk. Guess which one was today!!
> 
> We're back to spice! Not that there aren't feelings in this. I have not been abducted by aliens, there ARE feelings. ParLav are FIANCÉS and they're VERY in love — that just doesn't matter to this fic at all. 
> 
> This is just pure good ol' school girl/professor roleplay. Because it's been a long month/year/pandemic and we deserve it.
> 
> Ran out of words to say thank you. [Uphorie](https://uphorie.tumblr.com), you're cool.

Parvati isn’t quite used to the Matron robes yet. It’s all a little surreal, getting to put them on after five years of healer training and two years under Madam Pomfrey’s watchful eyes.

The castle is quiet in a way she’s never experienced before. “That’s how August is over here,” Lavender had said last week when Parvati mentioned it. “You’ll get used to it. Plus, you’ll have at least a dozen tummy aches from too much food and homesickness to deal with tomorrow night. You’ll miss the quiet soon enough.”

They’d moved Lavender’s things from the Divination tower down to the Matron’s quarters the day before. Parvati is still against it — Lavender should get proper sleep if she has to teach all day and not be disturbed by all the nightly comings and goings of the Infirmary. But Lavender insisted that now that Parvati was staying at the castle full time, they should be allowed to stay together as a couple. All the other coupled up professors do it, and Lavender wouldn’t have it any other way.

Parvati walks the quiet corridor with smalls steps, the plain black loafers she’s wearing quiet against the stone floors compared to her usual shoes. Her skin is tickling with anxiety. She climbs the many steps up Divination tower as the nervous excitement settles low in her tummy and she plays with the end of her plaits, smoothing them over against her robes. She won’t be wearing these robes for long, but playing with her hair has always helped calm her. 

She takes a long, shaky breath when she gets to the top, and leans against the cool stone wall. She looks at her watch and with only five minutes to go before she has to knock on Lavender’s classroom door, she takes off her outer robes and folds them neatly into a pile. Transfiguring a crystal ball into a mirror is easy enough and she checks everything is exactly what Lavender asked for: leather loafers, grey knee socks, grey skirt. Her white shirt is impeccably pressed and her Gryffindor tie is tight against her neck. It’s unsettling seeing herself in her school jumper, the little gold and red trim around the hems adding to the excitement. She transfigures the crystal ball back and takes another deep breath before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” Lavender’s familiar voice answers from the other side.

 _All or nothing now, Parv, don’t mess this up,_ she tells herself.

“Professor Brown, you wanted to see me?” She asks, after opening the door. 

“Hello, Miss Patil. Thank you for coming. Take a seat,” Lavender says and gestures to the chair across from her. 

_“Miss Patil”_ is enough to send shivers up Parvati’s spine. 

The room doesn’t look anything like it did back in the day. Lavender has a proper desk, and a blackboard, a shelf covered in books behind her. The little round tables with mismatched tablecloths remain, and so does the general feeling of the room — the hazy mood, the perfume of incense and the heat of open flames from the candles scattered around the room. It’s familiar. It’s good. _It’s a little bit sexy,_ if she’s being honest _._

Parvati sits across from Lavender and crosses her hands over her lap.

“Miss Patil, I have no doubt you know why you’re here this morning,” Lavender says.

Parvati finds herself squeezing her legs together almost painfully at the familiar feeling of need right at her core.

“I’m afraid I don’t, Professor.”

Lavender gives her a sharp look, and stands up. 

Lavender is the professor Parvati wishes she’d had. She’s just… desperately beautiful and mysterious and incredible. She wears bright eyeshadow that shines invitingly against her dark skin. Her hair is pulled into a high bun made of dozens of little braids and her robes are colourful and fun — none of the austere mood even the other younger professors have fallen victim to. Lavender is confident and stunning and wears her scars with a pride Parvati knows she would struggle to find if she was in her fiancé’s shoes.

“Miss Patil,” she says and walks slowly around the desk until she’s on the same side as Parvati. “We both know you’ve been turning in work that is, quite frankly, very poor for your standards. You insist on being late to my classes — and other professors’ too, I’ve heard — and chatter away like you’re sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room with your friends. Which you aren’t. When you’re in my classroom, I’d like you to treat it with the respect it deserves.”

Parvati gulps and looks down at her hands, a guilty frown on her face.

“I know the subject I teach isn’t for everyone, Miss Patil. I’m highly aware of that. But this continuous disrespect on all fronts is concerning and if we don’t find a way to solve it, I’m afraid we’ll have to get your head of house involved. Or your parents.”

After one long pause, Parvati looks up at Lavender and says, quietly. “No, please.”

“Well, how do you suggest we solve this problem? You’ve been given chance after chance for the past few months and if anything I’ve seen a deterioration of the quality of your work and your behaviour instead of an improvement.”

“Please, Professor, I’ll do anything.”

Parvati watches the motion of Lavender’s hand, the grip on the edge of the desk get tighter. When she looks back at Lavender’s face, both her eyebrows are raised in a question they both know doesn’t need to be spoken out loud.

“Up, Miss Patil,” Lavender says, sharply.

“Professor?” She asks, softly.

“Stand up.”

Parvati does, holding her wand in her right hand.

“I’ll take your wand, you won’t need it,” Lavender says, and Parvati places it on Lavender’s open palm.

Lavender stands up then, and moves behind Parvati. Parvati’s body responds to every movement, big or small. To every breath, every sound, every word, every small motion. Lavender presses herself against Parvati’s back, much taller in her high heels, and whispers against her ear, “hands on the desk.”

Parvati does as she’s told and takes one step forward, puts both her palms open and flat against the surprisingly warm polished wood.

“Good,” Lavender says. “Stay.”

Parvati does. Slightly bent over, legs already quivering in anticipation. She hears Lavender move behind her, casting a Muffliato around the room, murmuring a spell she doesn’t recognise, rummaging through something — a bag, maybe? — on one of the tables. When she tries to look back she receives a stern “eyes on the desk, Miss Patil,” and she doesn’t try to look again.

Lavender comes back closer and kicks Parvati’s legs apart without a word and Parvati’s pulse quickens wildly, knowing what’s coming next.

“Pull your skirt up,” Lavender says.

“But—“ she starts.

“Pull your skirt up,” Lavender repeats.

So Parvati does, and the room is hot, but she can feel her skin going all goosebumpy as she pulls her skirt up and exposes her bare backside to Lavender.

“No knickers? Do you think this is an appropriate way to wear your uniform, Miss Patil?”

She bites her lip instead of answering.

“I asked you a question,” Lavender says.

“No, Professor Brown.”

“Right. Elbows on the desk, then. You’re going to count out loud for me, is that clear?”

“Yes, Professor Brown.”

The fact that she doesn’t know what’s coming makes it all the more exciting and Parvati can feel herself get wetter and wetter, just waiting to find out what Lavender has in store for her.

The first hit is just under the swell of her arse, across both her thighs and she winces at the sting. Out of Lavender’s many toys, the cane is one that doesn’t come out often, but when it does, Parvati knows she’s in for a long night.

“One,” she breathes out.

The following four are slow, with the same few seconds in between them and she winces, and then counts each one. The five after that are across both her buttocks, slightly higher or slightly lower and in quick succession.

“Six, seven, eight, ah! Nine, ten,” she says, breathless already.

Lavender’s hand caresses softly what are, no doubt, big red welts starting to form on Parvati’s backside. It’s going to take a ridiculous amount of healing salve to sit through dinner with the rest of the staff later. 

Lavender delivers the next ten strikes with her own hand, firm and _mean_ — a sharper but less stinging pain. 

Parvati breathes through her mouth and counts, obediently.

The cane comes back for the following ten, and Parvati’s head ends up on the desk, between her forearms. 

Lavender is careful, striking where it hurts and won’t damage, going slower or softer the higher she goes, delivering the hard blows on the fleshier areas.

Two hot tears roll down her nose and drip onto the table under Parvati’s face by the time she struggles to shape the word “forty” out of her mouth.

“Miss Patil?”

One shaky breath and Parvati manages a, “Yes, Professor?”

“We’re going to do another ten, and then we can see how else you can make up for your behaviour.”

_Fuck._

“Yes, Professor.”

The last ten spankings are classic Lavender, open hand against sore skin, alternating cheeks with unpredictable pauses in between them. Parvati finds herself getting three rapid smackings that push a breath out of her lungs followed by one she’s trembling as she waits for it, the pause is that long.

She’s aching but the lust burns in her veins, and she waits impatiently for whatever Lavender is doing next. 

“Do you understand that this punishment is merely a consequence of your actions, Miss Patil?” Lavender says, and Parvati hears the cane drop to the floor. 

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good,” Lavender says and caresses Parvati’s arse in a mixture of pleasure and pain. It’s not long until she’s reaching down and pressing two insistent fingers against Parvati’s slick pussy. She can’t help it but let a long moan escape her lips.

“Miss Patil, I have doubts the punishment will sink as it should, seeing as you’re enjoying yourself so much,” Lavender says and Parvati shivers. That professoral tone will undo her, she’s certain. 

Lavender walks away again and Parvati breaths through the need, the want, the ache. She doesn’t want Lavender to move away, she wants her closer — she needs Lavender to touch her.

When Lavender walks back to the table, she wraps a long thin scarf around Parvati’s eyes. “This will help you open your inner eye, Miss Patil. You don’t need to see — you need to feel. That’s the first lesson in Divination.”

And with that Parvati is turned around and lifted onto the desk. Lavender pushes her back until she’s lying down flat against the wood and pulls her closer to the edge by her thighs. 

The next thing Parvati knows, a familiar buzzing noise echoes around the room. Lavender touches the vibrating wand to the inside of Parvati’s knee, and slowly makes her way down, avoiding where Parvati actually wants it. She repeats the motion on Parvati’s other leg and Parvati can’t help but moan.

“Give me your hand,” Lavender says.

Parvati opens her left hand in front of her and lets Lavender pass her the vibrating wand. 

“You know what to do with that, I’m sure.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, and sighs in relief when she finally touches it to her clit. 

“Miss Patil?”

“Professor?” She calls back.

“This is punishment. It’s not for fun.”

Parvati almost laughs, but it turns into a moan before she can get herself into more trouble.

“I know you’re good at cartomancy. You’re going to talk me through the cards of the Major Arcana and their meanings,” Lavender says and Parvati panics. She’s relied on Lavender’s Divination for years — since the War. Can she actually remember all the cards in the Major Arcana?

To make matters worse, she feels Lavender slot herself neatly between her legs, and the push of a dildo against her. Oh, fuck. 

Lavender pushes forward slowly, helping Parvati hook her legs around Lavender’s waist. Parvati loves being fucked like this but wishes she could see Lavender. Just thinking of Lavender in a strap under her professor robes, right there in the classroom where she teaches makes Parvati arch off the table, in need of more.

“You can start, Miss Patil.”

Merlin, she’d forgotten. _The cards._ She’s sure they have an order but there is no way she can remember, so she starts with whatever comes to her mind first.

“Temperance.”

That earns her a shallow trust that sends waves of pleasure through her. 

“Tell me about Temperance.”

“It stands for uh— moderation and, ah, management.”

Merlin, that doesn’t even sound real. 

Lavender pulls all the way out and slams her way back in and Parvati’s brain shuts out.

“Keep going,” Lavender says.

Parvati goes through as many cards as she can remember — in between gasps and moans — as Lavender fucks her in a relentless rhythm: the Sun, the Moon, the Star, Wheel of Fortune, Death, Judgement.

But even without being able to see Lavender, it’s too much. It’s too much knowing what they’re doing and where they’re doing it and Parvati rubs the vibrating wand against her in circles as Lavender says, “Miss Patil, I’m starting to think you finally understand the severity of your misdeeds,” and comes, gasping for air, her empty hand scratching desperately against the desk.

“That’s it, that’s it, good girl,” Lavender says. “Good girl,” she repeats, against her lips, pulling out slowly, and helping Parvati up and against her so she can remove the blindfold and kiss her.

“You did so well, baby,” she says. “Was that good?”

Parvati smiles. 

“Yeah. I suppose being official staff has its perks.” 

Lavender laughs, but it quickly turns into a half-groan, half-growl when Parvati kisses her neck and asks, “can I eat you out under your desk?”

**Author's Note:**

> for a more hyperactive and extremely chatty version of me, come say hi [on tumblr](https://onbeinganangel.tumblr.com)


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